I used to make you smile, if only for a while
by Casketta
Summary: I'll keep you guys safe. Medieval AU, character death.


_I'd throw my life away, to keep you safe._

It was him, Izumo and Mikoto who had started these shenanigans, and Totsuka can't help but to smile to himself. His head is hazy, but all the memories are flooding back to his eyes, and it feels nice to reminisce. He's staring up at the night sky, stars littering the beautiful and mysterious sky, and he can't help but to smile.

It's truly beautiful.

He remembers when he first met the to-be King, Mikoto Suoh and his follower Izumo Kusanagi. That red hair, that fiery red hair belonged to such a quiet individual- that same person who he knew would become King. It was different in the Land of the Phoenix, compared to the Country of the Scepters. You were not born into power; you were chosen- it was like a lucky draw. Each fifty or so years, the old King would pick a name from a hat that had many of the country's young teens, and if you got lucky you were crowned.

He met that red hair teen the day of the pickings. He had been in bandages, from a later fight, and it was Izumo who pointed him out. Not even that, he was the one who introduced him to Mikoto, who stood there in rags, looking as bored as ever.

"This is Totsuka Tatara, Mikoto." The blonde says, and Mikoto shrugs a reply. "He's an aspirin' painter." Although, the tan haired individual just smiles, and he remembers saying those very life changing words.

"It's nice to meet you, King."

Kusanagi blinks for a minute before glancing at Mikoto, who actually looks pretty shocked- although he doesn't show it well. "Wh-… Ha, Totsuka, yer pretty gud at makin' jokes. Mikoto didn't even put his name in tha' draw, we're jus' goin' cause we have too." Kusanagi is trying to cover up whatever pride Mikoto has apparently just lost, and it makes Totsuka smile.

"We'll just have to see."

About ten minutes later, it was now time for the draw. The old Red King stood there; ready to draw the name of the one lucky man who would attain the responsibility of a lifetime. He was dressed so lavishly, reds, oranges and blacks covering his skin- with shiny silvers accessorizing his look. In a moment of silence, everyone stared as the loved man placed his hand into that jar, swishing around the pieces of cloth that held each person's fate.

The dead silence remained after the King raised his hand, a piece of lightly stained cloth into his hand. Quietly, he looked at the name, reading it through his mind. And then with his loud, booming voice, he shouted out to the large crowd of people.

"Suoh, Mikoto!"

Izumo's entire jaw practically dropped to the floor, and Mikoto was just sort of… stared. He was shocked; the teen who had watched his family die one at a time had been blessed with the power of a Kingdom. Blessed with the power to _save_ people, save them and make them his _people_. The idea made that stone heart beat, and Totsuka couldn't help but to chuckle.

"It's nice to meet you, King."

—-

A few years later, Totsuka and Izumo were standing in front of their King, as he seemed to contemplate a plan of attack. He had never excelled in strategy, and that's why he had his two men with him, his left and right hand men. Izumo was busy trying to re-explain something, and Totsuka just watched the situation. It was interesting, to choose a doctor and tavern owner helping their King, along with a painter and poet.

Mikoto glanced up though, amber eyes beckoning Totsuka to his side, and he gave the other a warm smile. With a nod, he walked over, listening in to Kusanagi's explanations.

It was an hour later when Totsuka received the message, an anonymous sender had delivered something to the bar. The bar was always some place that the King could go when busied with work, and it calmed him down. Besides, they had formed a family- with Mikoto being like a husband and Totsuka and Kusanagi sharing the roll of big brother and wife. They had collected an array of kids, and to be honest, Totsuka could not have been any happier.

He had been working on a painting of the entire family when he got the letter delivered. He smiled to himself when he had first got it, so he opened it. There was not much written on the piece of parchment.

_Watch your back, King. _

Totsuka just smiled at the half-assed attempt at a threatening note, and threw it out. Of course though, he hadn't been expecting the knock at the door. The bar was closed, Mikoto and Izumo were currently upstairs, dressing the King for a large gala he had to present. Sure, it wasn't really his thing –but he had to hold one at least once a moment.

The tan haired painter opened the door, only to be roughly grabbed by one simple man, one with silver hair. He shouted for some sort of aid, and before anything else could happen, cloth was wrapped around his mouth. He was struggling, but Tatara was never truly a fighter- he wasn't built for it.

He's dragged into the street, horrified as he feels something sharp touch on his neck. "It's a nice night out, isn't it?" His attacker suddenly speaks, and Totsuka does his best to remain calm.

"I… It is a nice night out."

"A nice night, you say?" He repeats, voice chilling Totsuka to the bone as suddenly- something doesn't sit right right the tan haired man. "It is." And suddenly that cold metal is suddenly pushed through his chest, and a hand wrapped around his mouth- muffling as a scream.

It hurt, oh _god_ did it hurt.

—-

Someone was yelling for him- he could barely hear them. How was he still alive? Well, he was the King's left hand man- his second in command. He had been given a rare power, one that the King shared with only a select few. The sky was still so beautiful even in the night, even on his deathbed. He couldn't go out like this, although his thoughts were interrupted when Misaki picked him up, screaming to Kusanagi and then to him.

"Mister Totsuka! Totsuka! Stay awake, K-Kusanagi's here!" He was screaming, as loud as the crow could and Totsuka smiled. He would die here, it was inevitable. He glanced at the blonde bartender, who was now crouched next to him, immediately grabbing as much sterile gauze as possible. The doctors hands were shaking as he tried to fix the deep knife would, or was it caused by a dagger?

Flashes immediately pulsed in Totsuka's eyes, and he was watching Mikoto and Izumo laugh at a joke he made, before he simply pulled out a flute, playing a soft melody for the new members of Homra- their private club: their _family_.

Slowly, a hand raised upwards to cup Izumo's cheek, blood staining the untainted flesh. "Don't… worry about it." He wheezed softly, before the arm practically fell onto Misaki's cheek, lightly slapping the bloodied skin to tear-stained flesh. Totsuka was happy at this point, a painful smile crossed onto his face as he just simply blinked his heavy eyelids, and he let his arm fall back into the puddle of blood and dirt.

"It'll… all work out."

He would die for his King, and he was okay with that. Izumo would take his position as second in command, and everyone would go on living happily. The murderer would be caught, he'd be avenged and everyone could live peacefully. It was better this way, because Totsuka loved everyone too much to let them go.

It was easier this way.


End file.
